❛ASTERIA EDWARDS was your average, typical eleven-year-old child stuck in a pandemic with her mother Isabella Diggory until she found out where she truly came from.. and where she truly belonged...❜
[extended summary inside]
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harry potte...
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"I knew it!" yelled Ron, punching the air. "You always get away with stuff!" Harry grinned, feeling way better than before. As expected, he had been cleared of all charges.
"They were bound to clear you," said Hermione in relief, gaining her colour again. "There was no case against you, none at all.."
"Ta-dah!" Ria burst into the kitchen, holding a basket of steaming rolls. "Cinnamon rolls! By the one and only, Asteria Edwards!"
"Thank you for the credit, Ria." said Remus sarcastically.
"And good ol' Remus Lupin!" She bellowed, then looked at him. "Happy?" He nodded with a smile as she placed the basket on the table. Ron made a move to take one, but Mrs. Weasley swatted his hand away.
"She made them for Harry's good luck! Let him take one first." She said.
"It's fine, Mrs. Weasley. Let him." replied Harry, and they all dug in, while he looked at Ria, whose cheeks were red with all the grinning. Now that there was nothing else to worry about.. he was going to finally ask her out.
"He got off, he got off, he got off—" Fred, George, Ginny and Amelia were chanting, going around in circles.
"That's enough, settle down!" shouted Mr. Weasley, though he too was smiling. "Well, I'd better get going. There's a vomiting toilet in Bethnal Green waiting for me. Molly, I'll be late, I'm covering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in for dinner.. Isabella? What about you?"
"Oh, I'm here for dinner.. Might go to bed early, since I'll be busy tomorrow." She said with a small smile, making him nod.
"He got off, he got off, he got off—"
"That's enough— Fred— George— Amelia— Ginny!" said Mrs. Weasley as Mr. Weasley left the kitchen. "Harry dear, come and sit down, have some lunch, you hardly ate breakfast.."
Ron and Hermione sat themselves down opposite him and Ria, looking happier than they had done since he had first arrived at number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
The grim house of the Blacks started feeling a little home-like to Harry. Kreacher looked less ugly as he poked his snout-like nose into the kitchen to investigate the source of all the noise.
"'Course, once Dumbledore turned up on your side, there was no way they were going to convict you," said Ron happily, now dishing great mounds of mashed potatoes onto everyone's plates.
"Yeah, he swung it for me," said Harry, with a little grimace. "I wish he'd talked to me, though. Or even looked at me."
Ria's shoulders slumped with disappointment. "What happened to him now?" She seemed to have enough of Dumbledore and everyone could see it. His demeanour was annoying her more than anyone else's did.
"I don't know why, he just—" And as he said this, the scar on his forehead burned so badly that he clapped his hand to it. The three looked at him, alarmed.
